Nor lefs attractive is the woodland scene,
Diverfified with trees of every growth,
Alike, yet various. Here the grey smooth trunks
Of afh or lime, or beech, diftinctly shine,
Within the twilight of their diftant fhades;
There, loft behind a rifing ground, the wood
Seems funk, and fhorten'd to its topmost boughs.
No tree in all the grove but has its charms,
Though each its hue peculiar; paler fome,
And of a wannifh grey; the willow such,
And poplar, that with filver lines his leaf,
And afh-far ftretching his umbrageous arm.
Of deeper green the elm; and deeper still,
Lord of the woods, the long-furviving oak.
Some gloffy-leav'd, and fhining in the fun,
The maple, and the beech, of oily nuts
Prolific, and the lime at dewy eve
Diffufing odours; nor unnoted pass
The fycamore, capricious in attire,

Now green, now tawny, and, ere autumn yet
Have chang'd the woods, in fcarlet honours bright.
O'er thefe, but far beyond, (a fpacious map
Of hill and valley interfperfed between)
The Oufe, dividing the well-water'd land,
Now glitters in the fun, and now retires,
As bashful, yet impatient to be seen.

Hence the declivity is fharp and fhort,
And fuch the re-afcent; between them weeps
A little naiad her impov'rish'd urn

All fummer long, which winter filis again."

The remainder of this picture is very beautiful; nor will our readers complain of the length of the following quotation. Whom call we gay? That honour has been long

The boat of mere pretenders to the name.

The innocent are gay-the lark is gay,

That dries his feathers, faturate with dew,

Beneath the rofy cloud, while yet the beams
Of day-spring overfhoot his humble neft.
The peasant too, a witnefs of his fong,
Himfelf a fongfter, is as gay as he.
But fave me from the gaiety of those

Whofe head-achs nail them to a noon-day bed;
And fave me too from their's, whofe haggard eyes
Flash defperation, and betray their pangs
For property ftripp'd off by venal chance;
From gaiety that fills the bones with pain,

The mouth with blafphemy, the heart with woe."

Throughout the poem our author has contrived to introduce

fome little episodes, which agreeably relieve the train of re

flection.

flection. That of his "tame hare" yields to few things of the kind in our language. The fympathy of the female breaft will do ample juftice to the following picture of forlorn mifery.

• There often wanders one, whom better days
Saw better clad, in cloak of fatin, trimm'd
With lace, and hat with fplendid ribband bound.
A ferving maid was fhe, and fell in love
With one who left her, went to fea and died.
Her fancy follow'd him, thro' foaming waves,
To distant fhores; and the would fit and weep
At what a failor fuffers; fancy, too,
Delusive most where warmeft wishes are,
Would oft anticipate his glad return,

And dream of tranfports the was not to know.
She heard the doleful tidings of his death,
And never fmil'd again. And now the roams
The dreary wafte; there fpends the livelong day;
And there, unless when charity forbids,
The livelong night. A tatter'd apron hides,
Worn as a cloak, and hardly hides a gown
More tatter'd ftill; and both but ill conceal
A bosom heav'd with never-ceafing fighs.
She begs an idle pin of all the meets,

And hoards them in her fleeve; but needful food,
Though preis'd with hunger oft, or comelier clothes,

Though pinch'd with cold, asks never-Kate is craz'd.'

We have already obferved, that the ftile of this poem is not equal. He is fometimes not only familiar, but quaint, in imitation, as it would appear, of the ancient English poets. This prevents the reader from being tired. Even beauty, an eminent critic has obferved, muft have its occafional foil, to preferve its charms. After allowing to London, as a populous city, the merit it is entitled to, Mr. Cowper proceeds to cenfure certain abuses.

She (London) has her praife. Now mark a fpot or two,
That fo much beauty would do well to purge;

And fhow this queen of cities, that fo fair
May yet be foul; fo witty, yet not wife.
It is not feemly, nor of good report,

That he is flack in difcipline. More prompt
T'avenge than to prevent the breach of law;
That the is rigid in denouncing death
On petty robbers, and indulges life
And liberty, and oft times honour too,

To peculators of the public gold.

That thieves at home must hang; but he that puts,
Into his overgorged and bloated purse,

The wealth of Indian provinces, escapes.

T3

Nor

'Nor is it well, nor can it come to good,
That, through profane and infidel contempt,
Of holy writ, he has prefum'd.t'annul
And abrogate, as roundly as the may,
The total ordinance and will of God;
Advancing fashion to the poft of truth,
And cent'ring all authority in modes
And cuftoms of her own, till fabbath rites
Have dwindled into unrefpected forms,

And knees and haffocks are well nigh divorc'd.'

In many parts of the Tafk there is a ftrain of pious melancholy, which apparently refults from an experience of life, and a knowledge of the ways of men. The tenor of his reasoning is in favour of retirement and folitude; he has a taste for the pleasures of rural fimplicity, and appears to have imbibed a love for the works of nature, after a conviction that those of an are too imperfect and erroneous to confer hap; inefs. Of the circumstances in the author's life, which probably have induced his present habits of thinking, he has not left us entirely ignorant. In the third book we find him alluding to his own history.

I was a stricken deer, that left the herd

Long fince; with many an arrow deep infixt
My panting fide was charg'd when I withdrew
To leek a tranquil death in distant shades.
There was I found by one who had himself
Been hurt by th'archers. In his side he bore,
And in his hands and feet, the cruel fcars.

With gentle force foliciting the darts,

He drew them forth, and heal'd, and bade me liye.

Since then, with few affociates, in remote

And filent woods I wander, far from those

My former partners of the peopled icene,

With few affociates, and not wifhing more."

In the following lines there is an unusual animation and spirit, joined to the jufteft fatire. In general, where our author chaftifes the fashionable follies, he is fevere and indignant. In man or woman, but far moft in man,

And most of all in man that minifters
And ferves the altar, in my foul I loath
All affectation: "Tis my perfect scorn;

Object of my implacable difguft.

What! will a man play trick-; will he indulge
A filly, fond conceit of his fair form

And just proportion, fashionable mien,
And pretty face, in prefence of his God?
Or will he feek to dazzle me with tropes,

As with the di'mond on his lily hand;

And

And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, proftitutes and shames
His noble office; and, instead of truth,
Difplaying his own beauty, ftarves his flock.
Some, decent in demeanor while they preach,
That tafk perform'd, relapfe into themfelves,
And, having spoken wifely, at the clofe
Grow wanton, and give proof to ev'ry eye-
Whoe'er was edifi'd, themfelves were not.
Forth comes the pocket mirror. First we ftroke
An eyebrow; next, compofe a ftraggling lock;
Then, with an air moft gracefully perform'd,
Fall back into our feat, extend an arm,
And lay it at its eafe with gentle care,
With handkerchief in hand, depending low:
The better hand, more bufy, gives the nofe
Its bergamot, or aids th' indebted eye
With op'ra glafs, to watch the moving fcene,
And recognize the flow-retiring fair.

Now, this is faliome; and offends me more
Than, in a churchman, flovenly neglect

And ruftic coarseness would. An heav'nly mind
May be indiff'rent to her house of clay,

And flight the hovel, as beneath her care;
But how a body fo fantaftic, trim,

And quaint in its deportment and attire,

Can lodge an heav'nly mind-demands a doubt."

ar

But we must refer the reader to the work itself for many beauties which it were impoffible to detail here. The " "rival of the Newspapers"-" The poor Family-piece❞— The "Farmer's Daughter"-" Amusements of Monarchs" "Spiritual Liberty not perishable"-" Origin of Cruelty to Animals"—and many other paffages, will afford readers of feeling and tafte the greateft pleafure and fatisfaction. And, while the imagination and fancy are delighted with the manner, the heart cannot remain untouched by matter, which is drawn from the fources of eternal wifdom. We fhall conclude our account of the Tafk with the following lines, in which the energy of diction, and warmth of philanthropy, cannot be fufficiently commended.

"Twere well, fays one fagé, erudite, profound,
Terribly arch'd and aquiline his nose,

And overbuilt with most impending brows;
'Twere well, could you permit the world to live
As the world pleafes. What's the world to you?
Much. I was born of woman, and drew milk,
As fweet as charity, from human breasts.

T 4

I think,

I think, articulate, I laugh and weep,
And exercife all functions of a man.

How then should I, and any man that lives,
Be ftrangers to each other? Pierce my vein,
Take of the crimion ftream, meand'ring there,
And catechife it well. Apply your glass :
Search it, and prove now if it be not blood
Congenial with thine own; and, if it be,
What edge of fubtlety canft thou fuppofe
Keen enough, wife and skilful as thou art,
To cut the link of brotherhood, by which
One common Maker bound me to the kind.
True; I am no proficient, I confess,

In arts like yours. I cannot call the swift
And perilous lightnings from the angry clouds,
And bid them hide themfelves in th' earth beneath
I cannot analife the air, nor catch

The parallax of yonder lum'nous point,

That feems half quench'd in the immenfe abyfs;
Such powers I boaft not-neither can I reft
A filent witness of the headlong rage,
Or heedlefs folly, by which thousands die,
Bone of my bone, and kindred fouls to mine.'

The poem intitled Tyrocinium, or, a Review of Schools, displays the talents of a vigorous mind and lively imagination. Mr. Cowper is particularly happy in his fatire on the abuses practifed in public fchools; but, as this is a fubject on which the opinions of fome of the wisest and the best of men are divided, we cannot, in every respect, give our author credit for the averfion he betrays against public fchools in general. In as far, however, as he turns into ridicule the gross abuses of them, his poem will be read with approbation.-John Gilpin's marvellous Hiftory concludes the volume. The accidental celebrity, which this piece of levity acquired, probably induced the author to acknowledge it, and print it with his other works.

On the whole, we can recommend Mr. Cowper's poems as abounding in many of the moft valuable requifites of true poetry; in the beauties of harmony; in imagery; in juft and fine fentiments; and as breathing a fpirit of piety and philanthropy, which engages the heart and captivates the affections. Here and there a vapid line appears, or a turgid epithet; but the inftances are fo few, that the general merit of the poems will conceal them from every eye but the prying one of a fastidious critic.

ART